


One Winter's Night

by chicagoartnerd



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-25
Updated: 2013-10-25
Packaged: 2017-12-30 10:27:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1017502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chicagoartnerd/pseuds/chicagoartnerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One winter's night Sarah meets the Goblin King. He makes her a serious offer in the snow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Winter's Night

Sarah Williams had left the Labyrinth behind over seven years ago and yet it still haunted her dreams. She had grown from her adventure in the Underground all those years ago and yet refused to let go of her imagination. She still pictured herself in worlds of wondrous adventures and splendor, but in reality she was a twenty two year old college student who was majoring in Literature. She knew it was silly and fanciful and didn’t help her studying habits one bit.

But Sarah never the less daydreamed. Instead of actually escaping to the realms of her childhood she went into her stories. Once, instead of writing an analytical paper on Milton’s Paradise Lost, she had written a story expounding more on the character of Lucifer; darkly interesting, sensually charismatic, and damned to the underworld. Needless to say her grade on the paper wasn’t that great but her teacher had left an encouraging note about her taking more creative writing classes.

For hours she would be lost in her thoughts as reams of paper disappeared below her scrawling hands. She preferred to work with a pen and paper, she just couldn’t get the story right if she typed it up on the schools massive computers. It didn’t feel as satisfying as holding her living stories in her hands, like an actual book.

Even as she would spend so much time writing in college of mythical places and fantasy creatures Sarah hadn’t allowed her thoughts to consciously drift back to her friends and the adventure in the Labyrinth, or him. At first when she and Toby had returned home she would call on Hoggle, Ludo, and Sir Didymus every day. But as the months slipped by and she grew older, she found herself drawn to her mirror on fewer and fewer occasions.

Until she had gone off to college.

Then she had tried to take the mirror with her, more out of sentimental value than actually needing a mirror.  As her father and Karen had tried to maneuver it out of the room it dropped and shattered into a thousand silver shards. The sound of it splintering still gave her shivers. When the crystal ballroom had fallen down around her it had made a similar noise. Sarah had stumbled back, gasping from the broken glass minefield and had pretended not to see tiny bits of cold blue eyes staring back in the shards. After that Sarah didn’t try to contact her Labyrinth friends anymore and she also tended never to stare into any mirror for more than a few seconds.

Even as she tried so hard to avoid the remnants of her past she couldn’t shield herself from her subconscious. Every night her vivid imaginings would send her back to the Labyrinth, back to his castle. She would wander the ceaselessly changing maze of the Labyrinth with Hoggle. Or dance at the festivals in the Goblin City with Ludo and Sir Didymus. Some times, very rarely, she would dream of him. Once they had stood on the balcony of his room in the full blue moonlight gazing out at the Labyrinth and the city below. He had said something to her and gently brushed her raven hair over one of her ears, running his gloved hand lightly down her neck to her collarbone before retreating in to the darkness of his draped room. She still remembered how he smelled of leather and ozone. How his touch had been soothing and yet crackled and whirred with silent power, magic.

Even if she didn’t dream of the Goblin King every time she closed her eyes she could still feel him burning through her, tickling down her spine. Always watching and waiting for something. Secretly she knew it was her he were waiting for.

Which was why she had consciously forced her self not to remember any of these dreams because if she did the temptation would be too great. She would think of the Labyrinth all the time and eventually it would consume her. Then she would fall weak before it and offer it those dreaded words. Sarah Williams may have grown up and become slightly less fiery in her adulthood but weak and prostrate before anything or anyone, well that was something she never wanted to be.

And so she had worked sparingly through college, coasting through classes that didn’t interest her and spending all of her spare time with her writings or a good book. She especially enjoyed fantasy and was a big fan of Tolkien and oddly enough Lovecraft. Because of being too preoccupied with herself she had few friends and rarely left her room or the library except to occasionally go to classes. In fact she was fairly certain people made an effort to avoid her, there was just something off about the girl. Like she had seen something or been somewhere that had marked her.

Sarah shivered at that line of thought; she couldn’t afford to be thinking like that, it was just too creepy. Especially as she headed home from the school library near midnight as it snowed. When she had left the cozy enclave it had been cold and her breathe had reached white from her mouth, but it wasn’t yet snowing.

As she walked through the starkly lit path to her dorm the snow had begun to come down in flurries. It had started faintly at first; just a light sprinkling of powdered sugar, but then it had started drifting down in large crisp chunks. The snow almost looked like it was raining perfect white feathers. The only thing that spoiled that illusion was the splattering of cold as it melted against her still warm cheeks. She stood and admired the silence the snow had created.

Surrounded by eerie threadbare black trees on the concrete path she breathed in the muted black and white landscape that the frozen goose downy snow had created.

And then from a near by tree, possibly just over her shoulder, came the low hoot of an owl.

Sarah went rigid, _no it couldn’t be!_

It had to be some sort of coincidence. She hadn’t even thought those damn words! And so with her heart hammering behind her eyes, it had bypassed her throat all together, she hurriedly took off down the path. Sarah always walked home alone at night even though she knew it was stupid and potentially dangerous. The only reason she did it at all was she had no one else to walk with. And now she regretted not having some one to tell her it was all in her head or some one to hold her hand.

Amidst the silence of the falling snow she heard it, the unmistakable fluttering of wings. At this point Sarah’s flight or fight instinct revved its engine. It would end with her doing one of two things. She could break into a run or whip around and confront who she knew would be standing there.

It didn’t even take her a minute to decide.

Spinning on the heel of her boots, her hair flying out in an angry black wave around her barely contained beneath her fleece hat, she stuck her chin out defiantly and postured herself bravely to face the Goblin King. But to her utter shock and dismay there was no one there, just the somber gray scale pathway flickering between snowflakes. Right as her face was about to fall and her shoulders sag in embarrassment, she saw it.

Two trees ahead of her a white barn owl sat watching. Sarah couldn’t see its eyes but she knew they were on her because she felt that same burning sensation. The owl’s eyes were searing over her form, letting her know exactly who was watching.

Any modicum of doubt that was still drifting through her head evaporated when the owl began to fade into the tilting snow and a drift began to swirl to life only a few feet in front of her.

Materializing out of a loose vortex of white he stood before her, draped in a cloak of mottled snow, or perhaps pure owl feathers. His flax hair rustling slightly as snow danced before his burning blue eyes it was unmistakably the Goblin King.

Resplendent in all of his cold, beautiful, and otherworldly glory the base dropped out of Sarah’s stomach but she managed to hold her ground without letting her knees shake even a little. He seemed to notice the flickers of fear and anxiety as they passed through her eyes. That caused his impassive expression to change to one of sly and predatory satisfaction. Sarah’s heart froze, how was he here? How could this possibly be happening? Why hadn’t it happened sooner? There was nothing but this moment in time for her as the snow fell silently between her figure of solid reality and the something from her wildest and most dangerous imaginings.

“How?”

It barely managed to slip from her lips and it hung floating on the airy snow between them before he responded, his voice as cool and smooth as the sidewalk.

“Not how precious thing. Why.”

Sarah’s eyes grew wide in realization; yes the right question to have asked would be why. But she didn’t ask it; instead she stared into the preternatural fire of his eyes that blazed in a sea of gray and white. She was lost, she knew it already, but he was going to tell her why so she remained still and waited.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jareth had waited seven years to see those bright green eyes again. Certainly she had walked his realm since then, but only as a dreamer. Something that was a part of Sarah but not all of Sarah. Which was not what he wanted, he wanted no fragment nor phantom, he wanted the whole of the creature that devastated him.

The greatest desire of his was that wanted all of her and he hated himself loathingly for it. His pride screamed at him to punish her, to hate her, but his heart lay in as many aching shards as that beautiful dream she had thrown back in his face. Sarah had intrigued him with her childish statements and unwavering determination, but as the game progressed he found himself enamored to the point of offering her everything he could think of, including himself. 

If the truth was to be acknowledged, he had watched her before she had come to fetch her brother after thoughtlessly wishing him away. He had walked in her splendid dreams because she was special she was a vivid daydreamer.

Long ago when the world believed in magic, when legends and myths walked the streets at high noon, she would not have been an oddity. But as technology took the dogmatic place of magic in the hearts of man he began to loose his power. And in this day in age when only very small children believed in the wildest of fantasy he was relegated to the form of a mundane barn owl in order to walk the Aboveground during the daylight.

 Sarah’s dreams on the other hand had given him a rare surge of power, a thrill to be able to manifest himself in her world. In mundane sun light instead of the hazy shadows of madnight. This curious girl creature’s dreams and boundless imagination had started to change him back to what he once was, a being of great and ancient magic.

So when she appeared before him in his domain he had relished every minute of her. All of her solid realism in a world of dreams. Horrifically when she rejected him, stating he had no power over her, what little of his ancient and serene self that she had rebuilt with her love for the fantastic broke. Great chunks of him fell away to the wind on the wings of a bird. His ability to manifest himself even at night waned and he thought after she left his realm he might actually die. Well as much as something that had become a shell of its former self could truly die. In the end slowly he began to rebuild as king of his realm. The dreams of the boy and the deepest imaginings that she denied still existed nourished him, pulled some of the larger fragments upright again. He had always liked the child; he truly had, although part of it had to do with Toby being the younger brother of Sarah.

That name sighed through his mind and brought him back to the present. Her recent dreams had brought her to the Labyrinth but more often then not to him as well. He had spoken to her subconscious but of course she remembered none of it.

Even though she didn’t want it to, her dreams had once again brought him to life. He realized that in order to live as he once did he must have her by his side her belief in him fueling his magic. The only problem was getting her to come back with him. He knew she would never dare wish it or even say his name aloud, no, even if in her dreams they were…well they were friendly he supposed.

He thought about tricking her by dangling the danger her friends were in before her, but decided against it. In the end that would only cost him her heart, his happiness, and continued existence. Because as she had said, he had no power over her. She would have to choose his world over her own. Jareth just didn’t know how to make her do that without being terribly underhanded.

He had poured over her stories, for his library in the castle held every book ever and never written. Searched for any clue as to navigating her heart. And he had come up empty.

This appearance was his last chance, his desperate plea to her. He had nothing new to offer, he was still a creature of cruelty and beauty and mischief. A creature who adored her, loved her, and wished to give her all she could ever dream. His only hope was that she had changed.

He took a deep breath in order to address her. Sarah was even lovelier than before. Slightly taller, definitely curvier he noted slyly, and just as bright and burning amidst the snow as she made the world fall to gray. Before he could speak she had let a question slip from her lips. She wanted to know how. Simple. He had wanted to, more than he wanted anything before. So he told her the truth, she should be asking why. But when she didn’t he paused.

This was not what he had imagined; she was not raging and screaming and telling him he had no power here. She was gazing into his eyes intently, curiously, and slightly warily. Maybe there was hope yet. And so he continued.

“My offer still stands Sarah.”

Her eyes grew wide and panicked at this and she took a step back.

“Well my answer is s-“

But he cut her off harshly. 

“Stop! Do not say it again. I cannot stand to hear you say it again.” 

He slumped; he had to continue so he met her fearful eyes.

“Sarah, precious one, I am a creature of dreams, fed by dreams, and made of imagination. I cannot walk this world as I once could, people of your time do not believe.”

“But when I am drawn to your dreams, your imagination, I feel alive as I once did when faeries where not just a storybook tale and dragons stalked castle keeps. Sarah you make me feel alive, I need you now to exist. If you say those words again this time I will not be able to pull together my pieces. No one wishes away babies to goblins any more and not even small children know to fear that fate. Do you see?”

She had to see, if she didn’t all would be lost, he would be lost, and so would the Labyrinth.

 

* * *

 

 

Sarah listened, her breath barely a flicker through her now chapped lips. What did he mean? Did he feed off her dreams, her energy, like some sort of supernatural leech or was it more?

She didn’t know how to respond to his question. Hell she didn’t even know if she wanted to respond. And yet some part of her was darkly pleased. Pleased that the mighty Goblin King would be ripped asunder if she so desired. As soon as she acknowledged that part of her she wanted to tear it from her heart. Seven years ago on a stormy night she had had the adventure that had paled the rest of her life. Every moment spent outside of the vibrant world of the Labyrinth had felt dull and muted like the snowy landscape around them. Sarah admitted to her chagrin that her stories where a shallow life line, the only thing keeping her entertained and tolerant of the world she lived in. When really she only longed to return to the place that stalked her dreams. The place that was her dreams. So she stopped herself from thinking too had. Instead she nodded.

Jareth’s eyes shone even brighter in the sudden contrast of grays and whites and she could have sworn a smile flicked across his pale lips.

“Then I offer you this my lady.”

And as his arm unfurled she saw it appear from nothing in his palm. It burned bright orange, crimson, and gold in the dull landscape. It was fresh and luscious; the unmistakably sweet odor of it wafted and slapped her across the face. In his palm was a single bright orange peach.

He must have noticed the look of revulsion and fear that marred her features when she saw it because he silenced her by holding up his other hand. He looked down at her stoically.

“It is not poisoned dearest one. Remember things are not always as they seem. Think of what I truly am offering you.”

And then she saw the look of agony in his eyes and realization bloomed heavily across her mind. He was offering her his heart.

It wasn’t a peach it was everything, her dreams, a future in a world she deeply loved, and him, all of him.

Jareth was offering himself one last desperate time. Sarah didn’t have to think about her choice, like all of her actions even to this day it was pure instinct and impulse.

She reached out her hand and laid it softy on the firm skin of the peach; her wool-gloved fingertips faintly touched his white palm. A look of fierce joy emanated from him as soon as she leaned forward and the instant she touched the peach he pulled her to him.

Sarah felt his ungloved hand under her chin and she found that being this close to him made her almost pass out from the sheer sensory over load. He smelled like she had dreamed, like magic. His cloak was made of owl feathers and warm airy foam-like snow. But he just smiled lovingly at her lightheaded expression and then murmured.

“Welcome home Sarah my love.”

And in an instant they were standing on the windswept hillside of their first encounter.

Only this time the whole world lay below them covered in white cotton snow, even the Labyrinth had a good dusting. But wrapped in Jareth's protective arms she was no longer cold and no longer afraid. She was where she had always belonged.

Sensing something had changed in her, he looked down at her questioningly. Sarah simply smiled brilliantly at him and slowly pulled him into the kiss he had been shortly denied in the crystal ballroom.

They didn’t hear the cheer of approval go up from the Goblin City, nor feel the wave of groaning pleasure as the Labyrinth celebrated its becoming whole again. No, they were too lost in the soft sensations of the other’s lips and the burning intensity that lay just beneath the surface of their embrace. Completely and utterly lost on that snow swept hillside in the land of the Goblin King, the Labyrinth, and Sarah Williams.


End file.
